I'll see you in class
by My heart beats only for you
Summary: A different take on Murney's relationship with Seth.
1. The Start

**Disclaimer: **

My words, my plot and my effort. It's just not my movie.

This story will be melancholic and most likely offensive. You have been warned.

**Feedback: **

Won't continue without it.

**Author's Note:**

¬ Events from the film have been altered. Don't worry, it's not too complicated to follow.

¬ Forgive me if I fucked up on correct wrestling information.

¬ And of course, enjoy, mk?

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Clad in tight faded black jeans, fifteen year old, Seth Plummer tousles his almost amethyst colored hair before covering it with a chocolate brown beanie.

He was, as usual wearing layers though the weather out was miserably hot. He sported a dark gray Morrissey t-shirt over an off-white form-fitting long-sleeved flannel, which he rolled up to his elbows.

Lead by his sisters, his size 7 all black slip-on Vans, clicked and echoed down the dark wood staircase of his family's spacious home.

He seats himself next to his older sister Zoe and across from his younger sister Lulu and after _not_ eating breakfast credit to the second youngest Peter, the family and bodyguard, Lieutenant Shane Wolfe were on their way to school typically late.

They pack into the minivan and peel out, screaming and before long, Shane had got them there in one piece and somewhat on time. Shoving the children into the Principle's office seconds after the last bell rings.

Seth watched odiously as his Vice Principle & Wrestling coach, Duane Murney queerly admired Shane's 90 percent muscled body.

He leans slightly over to Zoe and whispers idiotic childish names, out of the side of his mouth as if Murney wouldn't be able to hear and she giggled, bringing unwanted attention to him.

"Alright, you know what, Creeper? You just bought yourself an extra 15 minutes on the mats… with the Murninator."

Murney snapped as a look of dread spreads across Seth's face.

The threat seemed harmless to Shane. After all, Duane Murney was an all-talk spaz.

After the Plummer children were excused by the lovely Principle Claire Fletcher, Seth sulked off down the hall with his two sisters following behind.

"He's such a jerk." Zoe stated sympathetically.

"Whatever." Muttered Seth just before he slipped into his Algebra classroom.

Lulu and Zoe had both exchanged looks to one another before they too retreated to their own classes.

As usual, Seth let his chin reside onto the back of his hand as it lay flat on his desk while his teacher droned on and on.

Crumbled up pieces of paper strike his slumped over body, each one followed by a snicker from it's creator.

Still his eyes focused on the student who sat in front of him. Her name was Wendy and her hair smelt like cucumber melon. Her locks were long and dark. Silky and straight. Today it was pulled back, clipped with a sliver jeweled butterfly.

She was, in fact, beautiful. Skin like fresh milk, eyes an emerald green. She was smart too and seemed nice from the three or four times she actually spoke to him.

He imagined conversations that would never take place, as he gawked at the back of her head.

"_Hi, Wendy. You're looking beautiful today."_

"_Why, thank you, Seth."_

"_You know my name?"_

"_Of course… I've been wanting you for quite sometime now.. because you see… I'm in love with you, Seth Plummer"_

"_And I'm in love with you, Wendy Polanski."_

A pensive sigh would then escape his lips, just as the bell rings, indicating that first period over.

The rest of the day was uneventful, you know other then getting shoved around by a bunch of jocks in a circular motion, who were sadly his teammates also.

Shane had come to his rescue, only making it so much more worse then the man could ever imagine.

"I was fine! I don't need your help!"

He spat in his uncalled-for savior's face and brooded off toward the bleachers where he would hide for the rest of lunch.

He would attend fifth period which was his Art Class, the only motivation he had to go to school to begin with. And of course, the fact that Wendy also shared that elective with him didn't hurt either.

Oh, yes, it was a blissful hour indeed, sculpting clay into images that no one but you would ever see or understand.

Class would be over soon, he thought, peering down at his digital watch.

When the bell rang, he grabs for his possessions and heads for the boy's restroom, where he would hide for approximately twelve minutes before ultimately leaving the campus all together.

"Where do you think you're going, Red 2?" The Lieutenant inquired when he spotted the eldest Plummer son darting into the boy's bathroom after the bell had already rung.

"I, uh, I need to use the restroom…"

"But the bell has already rung, Seth. You need to get to class or you'll be late" The older male explains.

"I-" He stops, taking in a quick breath, "I don't want to go to Wrestling practice today…"

Heaving a sigh, he gives Seth an unbudging look.

"Please, Shane…"

Those blue-green orbs pleading with the man before him.

Shane merely raises a brow at the teen and then points a finger down the hall toward the gym, "Go…"

Lowering his head in defeat, he obeys.

"Don't worry…" Shane begins, "I'm right behind you."

And he was, Shane had stayed for the entire period but when the last bell rings, he started to gather his things and waves Seth over.

"I'll be back to pick you up in an hour and 15 minutes. No more, no less."

He gives him a reassuring smile and a pat on the back and with that, Shane and his two younger siblings were gone.

For a laugh, Seth was matched with guys who were twice his size, clearly far from his weight class but Murney & the others were free to do whatever they pleased now that Seth's babysitter wasn't around to save him.

So he practiced, for his father and now for Shane. By the body-slams he was receiving, he'd surely come home with a limp which he would have to conceal from Overprotective Zoe and Curious Lulu.

The bell rings and all the boys scurry off, shoving Seth on the way out.

He knew he had to stay that extra 15 minutes and wouldn't dare try to make a break for it. It would only make him angry.

Murney eyes Seth from across the room, bends over and lefts up the door stop, letting the heavy door slam shut.

"Get out of that gear and hit the showers…" Murney orders his back to the boy. He turns seeing Seth head for the boys locker room and shouts, "Where do you think you're going, Creeper?"

Seth gestures toward the locker room, "I was just gonna-"

"Did you not hear me, boy? I said… Get out of that gear"

Cloudy blue green orbs lower to the ground, as he slowly pulls the first strap off his slender shoulder. He takes a small breath and then the other is down as well. He lets the upper part of his maroon singlet hang just below his projecting hip bone, as he reaches down to untie his shoes.

He could feel Murney's eyes burning a hole into him but continued to do what he was told. Once his shoes are off, he realizes something.

"Um, my clothes are in my locker…" He mentions quietly, turning his head around to Murney but sees that he isn't standing at the door anymore.

Seth stands to his full height, peering around for the coach. When he sees that Murney is nowhere in sight, he trots past the locker room and to the showers where he sheds off his uniform, peels off his socks and hops under the water.

Barely wetting his hair, he cleans himself thoroughly, turns the water off and reaches for a towel.

He wraps it securely around his waist and heads back for the locker room where he can change into his clothes but when he turns the corner, and finds Murney waiting for him by his locker, he doesn't exactly know what to say or do.

Was he in trouble?

Was he free to go early?

Did he have to stay longer?

He decides to ignore him, and proceeds for his locker, where he begins to open it, using his combination.

In mid-dial, a hand rests on his damp shoulders, and he deadpans slowly to meet eyes with Murney.

"What are you-"

But when Murney's fingers press against his plump lips, he knows that something isn't right.

He looks about his surroundings and knows that no one will hear him.

With his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes meet with Murney's yet again and he tries to somewhat negotiate.

"Look, I'm, I'm not gay-"

"Quiet"

"please-"

He begs but it just isn't enough to stop what has already begun.

"I said…" Even his whispers were coarse, "be quiet."

Warm tears ran down Seth's face as Duane's strong hands start to fondle around the small of his back. Slowly but surely they make their way down and without hesitation, he reaches the towel and forces it to drop.

With his body hunched forward, his hot breath travels down Seth's neck, making the teen shiver.

Seth struggled but Murney outweighed and overpowered him, able to pin both of his scrawny arms with just one of his.

The next seven minutes and fifty-four seconds were a haze.

He thought about his Mother…

He thought about his Father…

He thought about God… and molest.

Things like this didn't happen to fifteen year old boys during gym class in a safe community such as his.

It would be Seth Plummer's word against Duane Murney's.

And just by the thought, he knows he's already lost.


	2. The Pain

**Author's Note: **

This chapter is pretty sketchy. Probably won't make much sense either because it's reflecting on Seth's thoughts. Kid's a mess. Give him a break. Oh and in my story, Seth has his own bathroom which is connected to his room. Got it? Swell. I knew you would. _wink._

* * *

Suddenly, he finds himself in the minivan with a crying Peter behind him and a pensive Shane to his left. Seth has convinced himself that what had just occurred no less then ten minutes earlier, in fact… did not.

Absentmindedly, he clutches his worn-out backpack to his chest and reaches a hand out to turn the radio on and up. Didn't matter what was playing.

For some reason, a part of him was hardly shocked. He'd noticed the looks Murney had given him and some of the other, more weaker teammates like himself.

He wondered if he'd done this to them too and tossed the ridiculous idea of asking some of them the next time he'd see them at school.

_School…_

God, the idea of having to step foot on that campus again made his head spin and it forced him to shut his eyes.

"You alright, Seth?" Shane inquires but the boy was so deep in his thoughts he hadn't heard him.

All Seth could hear was Murney's husky voice threatening him,

"_Don't you tell…"_

"Seth, you-"

"What?"

Seth snapped at Shane's voice, half his face covered by his book bag.

Shane's mouth gapes, eyes settling on Seth for just a second before returning back to the road.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"No" Seth quickly answers, his body tense, forehead slightly beaded with sweat, "No, I feel sick."

Truthfully, he _was_ feeling ill but in a different kind of way. A way he couldn't quite name.

"Murney wasn't too rough with you, was he?"

The question nearly sends Seth into a fit of maniacal laughter but he's so fucking afraid he just shakes his head, so sincerely.

The kid really _could_ act.

His eyes would lower down to his clothes, noting that he was missing his Morrissey shirt and his flannel was inside out. His shoes were barely on his feet and his beanie was no where to be found.

And like a tidal wave he recalls it all:

The way his breath made him shiver...

The satisfied huffing he made when he forced himself inside Seth...

Snatching whatever clothes he could after Murney let him crumble to the ground, alone.

His slender shoulders spike with a sharp intake of air. His heart clenches, eyes tighten so much it hurts.

And all Seth wants to do now is scream until he goes hoarse. Break everything around him that could be broken.

He was broken...

They haven't even come to a complete stop in the driveway before he opens the door, stumbling out, trotting convincingly casual toward the house, as his backpack dragged and bobbed against the inner of his calf. His body was hunched over oddly as well.

_It hurt..._

Nevertheless, he's through the door and midway up the stairs when Lulu collides with him.

"Watch it!" She shrieks. She gives him a glare, sidesteps and pounds her way down, while Seth skipped a step the rest of the way up.

He locks the door and now the kid is pacing.

"_Don't act like you don't want this"_

Pace, pace, pace, and don't you dare fucking stop or you'll dwell- acknowledge it, accept it, and justify it.

Justify it!

He blinks, stopping in front of his radio long enough to turn it on and loudly, though not suspiciously loud.

Didn't _really_ matter what was playing.

And he's pacing the dark wood floor yet again.

How can one rationalize a man your father's age slamming you against a wall and fucking your brains out?

Emotions are plowing down on him so hard, he barely even identifies them. There's hues of reds flashing in front of his eyes: anger, resentment, fear, abandonment, he guesses they are. But what's that one there? Bluish- it's turquoise. It's lukewarm, almost ... proverbial.

_I didn't want it... _

He's gasping now as the bass of the music is traveling through his feet, up to his heart to pound at it.

_...right?_

Zoe is shouting, "Seth, turn it down!" because she wants to be a brat and her fists are connecting with the door for added emphasis.

He wants to cover his ears, not ever hear anything ever again but knows that would only bring thinking, bring remembering.

He finds himself rummaging through his drawers. Retrieving boxers, a t-shirt and pants. He darts into the bathroom, closes the door and locks it. He quickly turns the water on in the shower, not caring to direct the nozzle into whatever temperature he desired. He just needed it on... more noise... more distractions.

Trembling hands pull at tainted clothing. First, the shirt. Not slow but not quick. Gingerly maybe. Then next, his pants. He's exaggeratedly interested in unbuckling them just the right way.

Actually taking them off though- that part, well, that part was done as if he were dealing with a highly sensitive bomb. Lowering the jeans an inch or so only to pause for a few seconds. He was working in levels. Down to his thighs- a shaky breath- then just above his knees- a suppressed sob- then they'd sink the rest on the way on their own. His boxers- well, he simply couldn't bring himself to take those off. They'd just _have_ to stay on.

The water is cold but he doesn't notice. Just stands there, not really knowing what to do. Lets the pressure jab at his back, soaking his boxers so they plastered around his thighs and detailed his...

He peers down at the indigo background with white polkadot pattern of his boxers. Something catches his eye. There's a substance that the water didn't wash away. It looked fresh though. He squints, and lets his hand reach down at it, scratch it with his nail.

It's... it's cum.

And now Seth is down right confused. What did that mean? Had he gotten off on his reverie of being raped?

God, no. He wasn't gay and he surely didn't enjoy it.

But even as he thinks these things, he's jerking off. Didn't even recall slipping a hand down to his groin but, hey, there it was and there _he_ was. Eyes fluttering, teeth sinking ravenously into his bottom lip, breath caught in his throat and he comes again with a grunt.

He doesn't understand at all. Where was this coming from?... no pun intended. He knows he didn't want it. Knows it more then anything he's ever known in his short life. His head is spinning, shaking to and fro, as he feels he's losing his damn mind.

And he laughs, a bark really. It turns into more of a giggle, then it's hysterical and just when he's about to start howling, his heart collapses into his stomach and he's crying. Sobbing, shoulders shaking so bad, he has to lean against the tiled wall for support. He slides down it until he's in an uncomfortable sitting position.

Incoherent words are being said through tears. His hands ball up into fists and he starts hitting, knocking down the shampoo, the conditioner, the shaving cream and the razor. The glint of it catches his eye and man, he's _thankful_.

He rolls it into his palm, shifting so he can stretch his legs out but never takes his eyes off it. Mesmerized and man, _so _thankful.

He pulls up the leg of his boxers just a bit, presses the blade onto his flesh and yanks it to the side. A ghost of smile appears and he does it again. A few more times and he frowns at the thought of his other leg feeling left-out. He switches quickly and without hesitating starts at it again.

_Good, good, good. _

He smears the blood around, almost playing with it, watches in awe as it dissolves into the water, turning it pinkish as he pools around him.

He wants to sit there forever and ever. But he gets up then, drops his pal and steps out of the shower to stand directly in front of the steamy mirror. He wipes it with his hand and stares into his empty eyes. They bore for a while, then lower to his arms. They were bruised at the bicep where Murney had held him still. His gaze continues downward to linger on his hips, bruised as well. He brushes his fingertips across the green tinted skin there then stops, letting both hands rest at his sides.

His eyes would move up to his flattened dark locks that he loved dearly but not anymore.

Murney had played with his long jagged hair as if he were a fucking doll.

So Seth cuts it… bleaches it even. Whatever it took to make that gut wrenching feeling go away… and that smell, the stench of his cologne over all his body that would never go away no matter how many showers he endured.

And when he's done, he pats himself dry down to his bloodied yet hardly damaged legs, changes into warm clothes, finally turns the music down but not off and he crawls into bed, curling up on his side. As soon as he head hits the pillow, he's fast asleep and truthfully hopes he'll never wake up again.

To Be Continued...

R & R 'cause it's nice.


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